


Murderer's Row - Dry Spell

by ViolentMedic



Series: Murderer's Row - Prison!AU [5]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, More Arguing Than Sex, Some Gay Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViolentMedic/pseuds/ViolentMedic
Summary: A year after the events of Volume 2, Tucker decides that the need for sex is stronger than his fear of both dicks and admitting that his 'thing' with Church is more than just 'a thing.'Takes place between Volumes 2 and 3 of Murderer's Row. Spoilers for Volume 2 inside (some explicit, some implicit). Not required reading.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this isn't really required reading. It's mostly just porn. It's a separate thing because 1) it takes place between volumes and 2) I never make smut required reading. Note, this has always existed but it was never posted on ffnet due to their policy against smut. So prior to this it was only in a tumblr post. Eyyy.

Tucker had honestly expected his and Church’s attempt at what Donut called a relationship, but which both of them referred to simply as ‘a thing,’ to go badly. That it would crash and burn and kill at least one of them. But it actually ended up going okay, though it wasn’t without its bumps.

First, it had been awkward. With both of them making a huge fuss over the tiniest sentimental gestures. The words 'no homo’ were spoken a lot during that time. Mostly by Tucker, admittedly. A few times, an attempt to kiss or even just touch hands would instead devolve into an argument just because sometimes fighting was easier to understand. But then they wouldn’t talk for a couple of days, would remember how much it sucked having no-one to talk to, and just start hanging out again like nothing had happened.

But the awkwardness kind of dissolved after a while. It was still there sometimes, but as an undertone rather than an overtone.

Church seemed to become more at ease with it faster, but maybe that was because he had a head start on the whole 'gay feelings’ thing. Or because he’d actually been in a relationship that extended beyond a one-night stand before (albeit one that only lasted three months and ended in him being arrested. But it was still more than Tucker. He didn’t count those two marriages that were for conning purposes.)

The touching even became comforting after a while. It was the closest thing to seeing that Tucker could do. It became habit to, when Church was nearby and no-one who’d make fun of it was around, to reach out and skim his fingers across Church’s face lightly. That way he could remember how Church’s face was built. Remember what he looked like. It was solid proof that Tucker wasn’t just hearing voices in some void of emptiness. And less depressing than figuring this out by touching the brick walls.

Still. While normally Tucker would initiate sex within an hour or two of meeting someone, if that long… even if he only started timing it from the moment they agreed to give this a go, it still took a full year for either of them to try anything beyond first base. Tucker didn’t know why Church never tried anything, but in his case there was just a lot of… terror associated with the idea of boning him. Even if there was some curiosity there, too.

That year was the longest he’d been without sex since he was sixteen. And dealing with any inappropriate boners with either his hand or thinking about his eighty-year-old ex-wife (ew) could only help for so long. If Tucker hadn’t been such a fucking horndog, he might have put off sex indefinitely. But a year was all he could take.

So one day, while he was sprawled out on Church’s floor and Church laid on his bed reading a book (when Tucker had asked what he was reading, Church’s answer was 'I’m reading a book called 'Shut up, Tucker’) Tucker thought about it and decided he’d rather take the plunge than think about eighty-year-old boobs again.

“Church.”

The only answer was the sound of Church flipping a page.

“Church. Church. Chuuuuuuurrrrrrrch.”

“What?” Church grunted.

“We should have sex. Right now.”

There was a long pause, during which Tucker wondered if Church had passed out or something. After about ten full seconds of silence, he heard Church snort derisively before muttering, “Subtle.”

“Subtle’s for cons, not for fucking. And it’s been ages! I mean, I haven’t had a dry spell like this since I was sixteen!”

“It’s only been a year.”

Tucker climbed to his feet, touching the floor and walls lightly here and there to confirm where he was. “Oh of course you would say that, Mr. 'I-Somehow-Have-Not-Had-Sex-For-Sixteen-Years-And-Was-A-Virgin-For-Twenty-Nine.'”

“I regret telling you that.”

“Anyway, I’m a lover, not a talker.” Tucker approached Church’s bunk, reached out and brushed his fingers against Church’s face. Instead of doing it fast like he sometimes did when he was passing by or just being annoying, he let his fingers linger, tracing the side of his face. He felt Church stiffen up for a moment before relaxing. “Why fuck around with words when we can just fuck, you know?”

“…Cheesy.”

“Cheesy’s the best kind.” Tucker sat down, though his hand never left the side of Church’s face. “…So, uh? You down? I mean, uh… I guess if you aren’t, then that’s cool. I’m not gonna bitch and be all, you know… needy and shit. Apart from the whole exploding thing. I mean, like if you’re all scared because it’s been like sixteen years so it’ll probably be like you losing your virginity again only worse because… you know, it’s gotta go up your butt this time, and—“

“Tucker.”

“Yeah?”

He felt Church grasp his face with both hands. “For the love of god, stop talking.” Then Church yanked him forward and smashed their lips together.

It was kind of rough. Stung a little, because Church hadn’t shaved in a few days and the sensation was rather similar to rubbing his jaw on sandpaper. But it was so much better than just awkwardly chatting. Words were bullshit.

“Way better,” Tucker muttered against Church’s mouth before snaking an arm around his neck and pulling him in closer.

One of Church’s hands left his face to cling his jacket. The fingertips of his other hand instead moved up his face, pushing their way underneath the bandana covering his eyes.

The moment Tucker felt that, he jerked his head back long enough to say, “That stays on. Having to stare at… that… will probably kill your boner.” He grinned, but he couldn’t hide the slightly bitter tone in his voice. It was stupid to be so sensitive about it, but he’d been one handsome motherfucker before Miller mangled his eyes and it still hurt to think about. Church didn’t lower his hand, though.

“Oh, please, your face was ugly before the scars.” The words were mean. The tone was almost gentle.

Church’s fingers moved to the back of Tucker’s head, fiddling with the knot that kept the bandana on. Tucker felt the fabric slip off his face and instinctively ducked his head down, the same way he did when he had to take it off in the showers.

When Church touched the scars, Tucker couldn’t really feel it. He felt a vague pressure, but not the rough feel of Church’s hands like he did if Church touched him anywhere else.

“Quit it,” Tucker whined.

“Sorry. Just thinking.”

“Thinking? We’re about to bang, you’re not supposed to be thinking.” Despite this assertion, Tucker’s mind was in overdrive. Why the fuck was Church poking his scars? Why wasn’t he just getting on with it? What happened when he did get on with it? What happened once they were done?

“Fine. No thinking.” Church kissed him again. “Not your strong point, anyway.”

“You’re one to fucking talk.”

This was definitely better than talking. Even though Church tasted a little bit like the cereal he’d had for breakfast and smelt like cigarettes. All that dealing in cigarettes… as well as Grif blowing smoke at him whenever they were arguing… it made him smell. For a moment, Tucker missed how girls smelt. All nice and flowery and shit. But then again, Church smelling like lilacs would be weird.

“Dibs on the top,” Tucker said, before pushing Church down onto the bed, touching the lumpy mattress here and there to be sure of where he was before putting his hands on either side of Church. “You’re probably used to that anyway. What with dating a half-shark woman and all.”

Tucker felt Church tense up slightly under his fingers at the mention of Tex before muttering, “No ex-girlfriends. Not right now.”

“No? I thought thinking about that would get your motor going. I know it works on me—“

“I’m leaving.”

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop!” Tucker pressed a hand against Church’s chest to stop him getting up before nipping at his neck lightly. He heard a tiny, but sharp, intake of breath from Church and felt him stop trying to get up again. “Still got it,” he murmured before scraping his teeth against Church again. Church mumbled something that might have been a rebuttal, but Tucker couldn’t quite make it out. He was sure he heard the word 'egotistical’ in there, though.

At least Tucker knew he was in control here. He had the experience. All Church had was three months with a half-shark, followed by a sixteen-year dry spell. This was scary—no, not scary, he was so not afraid of Church or of this… thing… they had going on—it was different, and it was just much easier to deal with if he could act like he was in complete control of it. It wasn’t like Church was that different from a chick, what with his girly… emotions and shit. Just a flat-chested, hairy, grumpy chick who smelt like dude. He’d fucked worse.

That was fine. That was totally fine.

Until he made the mistake of stroking Church’s stomach and feeling the short, bristly trail of hair leading down to—

“Ergh!” Tucker yanked his hand away, wiggling his fingers. Obviously he’d known Church’s dick was down there (seriously, how would he not know that, it wasn’t like Church was keeping it in a box on his mantlepiece) but accidentally groping at it had surprised him. Scared him a little, even.

“…Uh. Tucker?”

“I’m good! I’m fine!” Tucker said in a voice that was much higher than normal.

Okay, it’d scared him a lot.

“You’re not fine with doing this, are you.”

“I… yeah. I mean, no. I mean… no, I do. I wanna do this. Seriously, I’m going mental with no sex.”

Tucker heard Church shift a little. “So… you just don’t want to have sex with me specifically.”

“Yes—no! Not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“Uh… well…” Tucker didn’t know. “I mean… uh… okay, whatever I meant, it wasn’t that.”

“Sure.” He heard Church let out a long sigh of breath. “Dumbass. You know you don’t have to do this, right? If you’re having second thoughts… I mean, about this or the bigger, uh… thing… I mean, you know you can say it, right?”

Tucker considered this for a moment, then said, “No. I mean, fuck it, right? No, I mean… sex is good, sex is fucking great. And this thing… our thing… it’s good. It’s just…” Tucker waved his hand at the general direction of Church’s crotch and said, “Dicks are just… they’re weird. Really weird. And it’s freaking me out.”

There was a stretch of silence, before Tucker felt Church start shaking and heard short, muffled noises coming from him.

…The motherfucker was laughing.

“Oh my god, you are a jerk.”

“What, did a cock eat your family or something, Tucker?”

“Not funny.” If only Tucker could glare. “And my mother was a hooker, so if anything—“

“It would have been the other way around. Right, okay, okay.” He heard the bed squeak a couple more times as Church shifted again. There was a low 'hmmm’ noise for a bit. Then another little snigger. Tucker had the horrible suspicion that Church was just gonna get up and leave anyway. But instead, Church said, “Okay, fine. Lie down.”

“Eh?”

“Just do it, Tucker.”

Slightly perplexed, Tucker flopped back onto the uncomfortable mattress. “Don’t stick anything up my butt,” he grumbled. “You’d fuck it up.”

“Oh quit your bitching, Nancy.” Tucker was about to protest to being called Nancy when he felt Church push his shirt up and the soft swipe of a tongue on his stomach. He immediately stopped grumbling. “You good?”

“Y-yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright. But tell me if you’re not good, okay?”

“Sure, sure, whatever,” Tucker said impatiently. “Come on, man, don’t leave me hanging.”

Church’s hands didn’t feel as hesitant as Tucker’s did, as they pulled at his waistband, yanking his pants and underwear down to his knees. Then there was a very long pause. Followed by the sound of Church letting out a long breath through his nose. Tucker let out a very small, breathy laugh.

“It’s not so easy once you get down there, is it?” he said smugly.

“At least I didn’t start waving my hand around and yelling.”

“You’re just saying that because—ohhh, fuck.” Tucker trailed off with that hissed expletive as Church moved one of Tucker’s legs over his shoulder and a slippery, warm sensation abruptly encompassed the head of his cock. Tucker’s hips instinctively bucked and Church let out an annoyed, but muffled, noise.

Tucker had gotten blowjobs before. Not since the outside, but he had. And it was blatantly obvious from that experience that Church had no idea what he was doing. It was clumsy and sloppy. He stopped at odd moments like he was trying to figure out what to do next, and every few seconds he lifted his head and Tucker heard him breathe. He clearly hadn’t mastered breathing through his nose and focusing on sucking at the same time.

It didn’t matter, for two reasons. The first was that Tucker hadn’t gotten a blowjob in over ten years. The second was that ever since Miller shredded his eyes the other senses had felt more sensitive. In the case of a blowjob, that translated out to feeling fucking amazing.

Tucker’s fingers twisted into Church’s short hair and he didn’t think about how odd it was to not have long hair to grab onto while someone did this to him. His hips bucked again and Church made a choking noise before lifting his head.

“That fucking hurts, quit it.”

“But it feels so good,” Tucker moaned, rocking forward again. The tip of his dick hit something and Church yelped.

“Ow, motherfucker! That was my eye!”

“Shit, sorry.”

He felt Church’s lips wrap back around his dick again and did his best not to shove it too far down his throat this time. He couldn’t help the little moans that came out, and occasionally he would hear Church’s muffled snickering. Assface.

Tucker wondered what this looked like. Was Church looking at him? Apart from Church’s goatee tickling him and making him want to squirm a little, he could have pretended it was a chick. A really hot one who just didn’t shave much, like this bearded but otherwise hot circus lady Tucker met once. But…

One of Tucker’s hands let go of Church’s hair and instead grasped his chin, pulling him off and tilting his head up.

“Is it weird that I… I kinda wish I could see you?” Tucker mumbled. Church didn’t say anything in response, though his hands squeezed Tucker’s thighs slightly in what was possibly a reassuring gesture. Tucker’s thumb traced the side of Church’s face briefly, mapping out the facial features, before moving back up to his hair.

Church’s head dipped down again and his tongue slid over Tucker’s slit, picking up the little beads of pre-cum. He felt Church shudder a little. “God, that tastes weird.”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

“I’ll need to think about it.”

“Whatever kind of fucked up it is, if you keep doing it this is gonna be over really fast. I mean… really fast.” Reluctantly, Tucker sat up and let go of Church’s hair.

“Uh, yeah, that’s kind of the point, Tucker.”

“No, I mean… you gotta be, uh… frustrated. Sixteen years and all. I don’t wanna leave you, er… you know.”

“Stop bringing up the sixteen years thing. Besides, you’re terrified of my junk. I got my hands, I’ll be fine. I’m not a whiny bitch who would probably fuck a hole in the wall if there was no other option.”

“Wow, I don’t even know where to start on how insulted I am. First off, I’m not a whiny bitch. I have a healthy sex drive, you’re the one who’s abnormal here. Also, I am fucking awesome at sex. And Lavernius Tucker does not leave his… uh… people… lying about unsatisfied and replacing me with hands. Not how I roll.”

The bunk squeaked a little as Church pushed himself back into a sitting position. He made a wet, clacking noise with his tongue, like he was trying to get the taste out of his mouth. “Ugh, okay. Tastes weird in a bad way.”

“Dude, are you even listening?”

“I’m listening! Okay, so… uh, well, we can’t really do butt stuff.”

“Why? …You scared? I thought you’d done that before with Tex.”

“Oh, please, if anyone’s scared it’s you. I ain’t scared, it’s fucking amazing if you do it right.”

“Sorry, sorry! Then what’s the issue? I mean, I’m not trying to pressure you or any of that shit, if you’re not down with it that’s fine. I’m just—“

“No lube, dumbass?” Church pointed out.

“…Oh, fuck. Right. I thought you would have some.”

“Why would you think I had any?”

“I don’t know, you’re the guy who can get things, why wouldn’t you have lube?”

“Because I didn’t want to ask Tex for it! 'Hey, ex-girlfriend, can you go get some lube so I can fuck my really annoying friend? Okay, thanks.'”

“Oh my god, you fucking baby, like she doesn’t already know,” Tucker laughed.

“It’s weird, okay?”

“Okay. No butt stuff. Alright, well… uh… I mean, only virgin losers need to put their dicks in stuff for good sex, so whatever. But, well… uh. Okay.” Tucker frowned to himself, hand reaching out and then retracting. “Alright. …Just give me a moment. Sit back, and I’ll… do stuff.”

“…Uh. Okay?” Church said slowly.

The bed squeaked. Tucker shuffled forward a little once he thought Church was sitting back. He then didn’t move for a full minute. That minute was entirely silent.

Church broke the silence first. “…Tucker?”

“Shut up, man, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Concentrate on what?”

“Uh, you know. Courage and shit.” He rocked back and forth again for a moment. “Okay. I’m gonna do it. Gonna touch it. Gonna grab the dick.” Church started snickering. “Church, stop laughing at me! I’m trying to focus!”

“This is the worst lead-up to a handjob ever,” Church laughed. “Don’t know where you learned dirty talk, Tucker, but you might want to get a refund.”

“Fuck off. I’m psyching myself up. And trying not to think about this one time that this businessman I was conning popped a boner near me. I mean, you are about the right age—”

“Mid-forties, asshole.”

“And that is really old. God, of all people to pick as a boyfriend it had to be a jerkass old man.” Tucker didn’t realise what he’d said until he heard the bedsprings squeak and fingers brush the side of his face.

“…So. Boyfriend, huh?”

“Uh, well, uh… fuck. I, uh… well, when I say boyfriend… I mean, prison bitch is the more widely accepted—“

“Stop talking before you ruin it,” Church said, sounding equal parts amused and touched.

Tucker’s face felt warm. He tried to ignore it and pretend he was acting super cool about all this. He actually did feel a bit better about this all of a sudden. After all, after the horrible step that was telling someone they weren’t a complete asshole and that this… relationship thing… was okay, well… what was bumping uglies compared to that?

With that thought, Tucker finally managed to calm down enough to move. He put a hand on Church’s thigh, rubbing a little before he moved up and, with an intake of breath, cupped the front of his pants. ….Tucker didn’t really know what to do once it got to that point.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, fine. Fine. Fine, fine, fine.” Tucker tentatively stroked Church before letting go and tugging at his waistband. “Uh, better, uh… don’t want to get your pants messy?”

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

After Church had kicked his pants off, Tucker shoved his hand back immediately before he lost his nerve. Tucker chewed his lip nervously as he grasped Church’s cock and moved up and down. Suddenly, he grinned.

“I’m bigger!”

“Goddammit!” Church hissed.

“Okay, I feel better about this now, I never would have known otherwise. Fucking awesome.”

“Dude, you’ve seen it before, there’s no privacy in the showers.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t look. That would have been gay.”

“As opposed to giving another guy a handjob?”

“No homo.”

Church snorted. “Sure, Tucker. Sure.” The snark trailed off into heavy breathing as Tucker sped up his strokes.

“Good?”

“Yeah… definitely good.”

“Well, anything’s probably good to you and your sixteen-year dry spell.”

Church made a noise that sounded mildly protesting, before mumbling, “Hang on a second.”

“Hang on for wha—“ Tucker cut off as Church moved forward and pressed against Tucker, grinding briefly against him. Tucker groaned, before saying, “Oh, for that.”

“Good?” Church nipped at his ear after he spoke, and Tucker grinned.

“Good. Fine. Legit fine, this time. Lemme get on top, though, that’s more my thing.” Tucker pressed a hand on Church’s chest and pushed him down onto the bed before climbing on top of him. “Seriously, though. Might be the finest I’ve been in… goddamn, ages.”

“Right back at you.”

Then there wasn’t any more words, there was just the two of them. Tucker pinning down Church the best he could and rutting against him, while Church dug his blunt, ragged nails into Tucker’s back. Grinding as hard and fast as his damaged lungs allowed him to go, and even though everything else had been slow and uncertain now it seemed like he couldn’t go fast enough.

Because now Tucker knew he was good with this, and Church knew it too. And neither of them really knew how things would go after, but right now?

Right now it was good. That was all that mattered.

Tucker didn’t last long after that. He felt that familiar, prickly warmth pooling inside him and he pressed his forehead against Church’s shoulder and choked out expletives as the warmth spilled out of him, splattering both his and Church’s stomachs.

“F-fuck, just… give me a second,” Tucker whispered. His breaths came out ragged. His lungs hurt. Not quite enough to diminish the good side of things, though.

Fingers touched his face, pushing him back a little before Church cupped his face, thumb rubbing the side of his face softly. Before Tucker could ask what he was doing, he felt lips press against his own.

Tucker wrinkled his nose before saying, “Ew, dude. You taste like dick. That is fucking gross.”

“Hey, if I have to suffer through that, so do you. Misery loves company.”

“Totally different, I don’t wanna taste my own dick. Eugh.”

Church snickered before rubbing against him again. “Wuss.”

“Jerk.” Breathing steady again, Tucker rubbed against Church slowly again, then faster. Not as fast as before, because his lungs still ached. To make up for it, Tucker licked at Church’s neck, before trailing kisses downwards and nipping at his collarbone.

He felt Church arch against him and mutter his name in a low, husky tone that Tucker had never heard from him before. Soon, Church’s nails dug in much harder and there’s another rush of stickiness between them.

Tucker stopped straddling Church and crammed himself in the space remaining next to Church on the bed. Amidst the afterglow of having weird but still pretty decent sex (at least compared to the 'wham-bam-thank-you-dude’ form of sex that most inmates subscribe to) the awkwardness was descending again. Plus, Tucker was uncomfortably aware of how goddamn sticky he was. Not to mention that washing off without easy access to a shower would be a bitch.

“So, uh… that was a thing,” Tucker said.

“Mmhm,” Church groaned sleepily. He shifted a bit and made that wet, clacking noise with his tongue again. “Ugh. You taste so gross.”

“Thanks, assface.” Tucker fiddled with his fingers before adding, “Lube next time, though.”

“I’m not asking Tex for lube.”

From a few cells away Donut’s voice called out, “Ask Doc! He says that safe sex is important. He'll give you all the lube and condoms you need!”

Tucker and Church both sat up immediately and Church shouted, “Goddammit, Dye-Job, how long were you listening?!”

There was a long pause, and then Caboose’s voice said, “You were very noisy. It was icky.”

Grif’s voice added, “Also, twenty-nine years of virginity? Seriously?”

“Fucking bullshit!” Church yelled, flopping back down onto the bed.

Tucker just laughed until his lungs started hurting again.


End file.
